the Pain is Temporary

Recently, I read an anecdote shared between two French artists Henri Matisse and Pierre-Auguste Renoir. The two were close friends and always together despite their age difference of twenty-eight years (Renoir is older). Through the final years of his life, arthritis nearly crippled Renoir. Yet, he painted every day and when his fingers were no longer sensing enough to hold up a brush. Alice, his faithful wife assisted him by tying the paintbrush to his hand so he could keep working.

Matisse took daily visits to Renoir’s home. One day, as he watched his old friend wincing a brush in pain with each colorful stroke, he asked, “Auguste, pourquoi continuez-vous à peindre quand vous êtes dans une telle agonie?” (Auguste, why do you continue to paint when you are in such agony?) Renoir quickly replied, “La beauté demeure ; le douleur part!” (The beauty remains; the pain passes). It was passion that fueled Renoir to paint until the day he died; those who continue to admire the beauty of his work will agree that the cost was worth it.

Over the last four days, there had been much pain in the hearts of many, mine included, over the death of a dear pastor back home. It’s not been an easy week. The staff at the church in which I currently serve has been gracious and understanding. Our outreach director, knowing about the pain, walked up to me while I was proof-reading the EasyWorship presentation this morning and prayed with me. But there are thousands of others who need to be prayed for and with- especially back home. Many have been shaken by the sudden demise of a beloved minister. Out of emotional lows and highs, people said and wrote things they can no longer take back– like toothpaste squeezed out that can never be put back in the tube from whence it came! I wrote my last blog in that context– an emotional low mixed with anger. What came out is what someone might call “irresponsible,” “nasty comment,” and “casting aspersions.” I admit, there was the intention to make my opinion heard (read) behind the writing (that’s what all writing is about), yet in the process some people may have been sorely hurt. May the Lord have mercy on me, a sinner, who may have caused a brother or a sister to hurt.

Emotions have been stirred. People who were once quiet have started making strong statements. Pain is present in all of it. People on both sides of the issue are hurting. As the saying goes, “hurt people hurt people.” Like abrasive shards of a broken clay vessel scraping against human skin are the words stated and actions made. Painful. But pain shall go and will be replaced by beauty. Out of the brokenness of the vessel, and the scraped skin, a beautiful mosaic can take form and a stronger layer of skin can develop– both bring beauty to what once caused pain and ugliness.

What we need at this point is grace coupled with wisdom. We need to look at God’s sovereignty afresh and ask with reverence, “For who can learn the counsel of God? Or who can discern what the Lord wills? For the reasoning of mortals is worthless, and our designs are likely to fail; for a perishable body weighs down the soul, and this earthy tent burdens the thoughtful mind. We can hardly guess at what is on earth, and what is at hand we find with labor; but who has traced out what is in the heavens? Who has learned your counsel, unless you have given wisdom and sent your holy spirit from on high?'”

Something beautiful will emerge out of this mess. This pain is temporary, let’s work through it.